Scrap Eagle Bar, Barrack Deck four, Kreuzberg Depot, New Berlin-System, Rheinland Core Space
27/02/825 AS, 16:45 PM Station time
The bar was just as crowded as it was dirty. Loud people yelling for the sparsely clad barmaids to refill their drinks, paid for by the daily scrap they were collecting on the back of their ships - which barely fit this description. For all intents and purposes, this bar was a junker bar, complete with the smell that accompanied it.
And that, precisely, was the reason why she had chosen it. Well, to be fair, she hadn't. The Bundschuh had, years ago, when Klugmann had still been calling the shots. The owner of the bar was sympathetic to the cause and had more often than not worked with them, mostly shipping recruits and people that tried to do the more shady side of the party's business around, calling contacts and generally served as a pretty useful individual. Annika herself had, on at least three occasions, been the beneficiary of his services. But despite that, the man had no idea she was here.
She had chosen a slightly off-sight part of the bar for her sitting spot. Sure, there were other Activists here, and she was certain that she had seen at least three white rose pins on the clothing of some people, but this was hardly her first time being around people she knew without being recognized. She leaned against the wall, one leg stood up on the bench next to her, leasurely watching the rest of the room through half-closed eyes hidden by the shadow of the wall behind her. Sure, it was cliché, but it worked. Nobody dared approach her, despite the fact that she had made good on her promise that she hadn't brought any weapons.
One of the reasons why nobody approached her, though, was courtesy. The place she sat in was the traditional resting place of the contact Bruchsal maintained on the station in case there needed to be an interview. Whoever she'd be talking to later, it would just look like one of the sects was trying to hire new muscle, an occurence so common that not even the members of the Festung were paying attention to it. Plus the fact that her black hair was much longer than it used to be, and with her eyes obscured the only feature she had in common with Rheinland's most wanted woman alive was the tattoo on her chin.
She eyed the man at the bar, who was quietly sipping his drink. Michael Wolf, the only person she trusted enough to bring him along as a bodyguard. He had chosen a spot where he could overlook the parts of the bar that she couldn't, but the trenchcoat and shirt he was wearing, collar up and sunken in, identified him as a Klugmannist. Sure, that wasn't exactly correct, but it made recognizing him much harder. Nothing about their demeanour identified them as being here for the same reason, they had even arrived at different times. For the purposes of the other Bundschuh in this bar, Nika Haupt and Michael Wolf were still in hiding, somewhere obscure.
Which brought up a question. Would they be able to recognize her? She knew that the people she intended to meet, despite being on relatively good terms with the Junkers, avoided this bar. Too many idealists here, hot-headed Eistochterists wearing the green pseudo-uniform adorned with the sun that she had used as her symbol, debate-loving Klugmannists constantly on the hunt for someone to convert to their cause, and the regular brawls between them and other major Bundschuh thinking schools weren't doing much for the appeal of the establishment either. She smirked slightly at the fact that she had created one of those 'schools' of her own, even though no members of it appeared to be here right now. At least none that openly signalled it with their clothing. Another look to the clock in the upper corner of the bar. 1700. The time of the meeting. She knew that her bodyguard at the bar was already ready to interfere with anything funny, but she still steeled herself if it would come to a heated discussion. A coin wandered on the table, currently showing the eagle on it's backside. Her hand, black and dull as if made from dark matter, lay next to it. The barman nodded in her direction. He didn't know who she was, but he knew what this signal meant. One turn of the coin, and he'd escort whoever was talking to her out of the establishment.
It seemed that rituals still had their place in Rheinland's underbelly.
Welcome, Arbeiter. By receiving this brief, you have volunteered yourself for an assignment of the General Exigency for Informed Tactical Survival wing of the conjoined Direktorate. Directives assigned under this division come from no mandated sanction from the Chain of Comrades within the KSF or any active Unioner social arbitration organisation, activist collective, or institution outside of the Direktorate C of C. You are therefore exempted from the normative bill of rights mandated within the Syndic Charter and Rheinlandic declaration of Colonisation, 3 AS, along with any and all additional component amendments of the ILU. This measure is taken to ensure the institutional survival of the Unioners and the preserved strategic integrity of the RISD, RAGDA, LWB, IPR, along with your comrade brethren, to insure minimal impairment of institutional stability upon the occasion of your capture.
Long live the Direktor and the Many Cells.
Brief:
Your mission is to make diplomatic contact with former political figurehead of the Outlawed Partei, Bundschuh activist, and war criminal under the Rheinlandic Colonisation Declaration, 003 AS, Nika Haupt, who has re-emerged into the underworld.
Haupt is a known collaborator with the Order, Gas Miner’s Guild, and possible recipient of laundered money from ALG corporate accounts. She is, amongst a number of interlinked institutional factors, responsible for the termination of relations between the Unioners and the Red Hessians that initiated the Second Volksrevolution Civil War. She is the originator of the present Outlawed Party agitprop narrative that the Unioners are covertly supporting federal military totalitarianism.
Personality biography:
Haupt is known to be intelligent, charismatic, self-assured, stubborn. However, she is not arrogant – her conviction is institutional first, personal second. Despite this, she is observed to have a messianic view of her own ideological convictions, if not necessarily herself. She will come to the table assured that her view of how the Bundschuh is the inherent future of the organisation and all other paths will result in the repeat of the same mistakes over and over. This is textbook populist narcissism and can be exploited. Bear in mind Haupt is as skilled an interrogator, terrorist, and guerrilla warfare expert as she is a partisan.
Haupt is a keen manipulator who prefers to use others as force leverage. She is not above acts of direct terror intermeshed with detailed propaganda campaigns. Her true ideology is uniquely Bundschuh, however, Haupt appears less obsessed with imitating the Libertonian corporatist oligarchy of the Republic of Liberty than her cousins within the White Rose.
Her attitude is pragmatic and she has likely filled the bar with subordinates, paid gunmen, or boobytraps. Avoid hostility. If the Union deems assassination the preferable alternative, you will not be the one to carry it out.
Objectives of the meeting:
- Discover commonalities of interest between the present Unioner administration and Haupt.
- Promote the idea (subtly), that the Unioners can, by free will, or manipulation, be convinced into siding with Haupt’s Spring Guard over the present Bundschuh White Rose administration.
- Attempt to gain from Haupt what Haupt’s true opinions are in her intention to “Destroy the Republic”. Can this sentiment be compatible with the restoration of the old Imperial worker’s rights charter?
- Focus on common interests (the destruction of corrupt political systems, preventing a Federal military coup, preventing a needless war with the house of Liberty). Ignore points of separation, except for your heritage. Her response will provide valuable character information.
Notes:
- We have taken the precaution to inject you with unobtrusive nanites during your pre-briefing medical examination. The nanites emit a harmless radiological trace to aid recovery in the event of your capture. Should you be detained longer than a week the nanites will dissolve into an instantaneous, painless, neurotoxin, saving you from any possibility of torture. The nanites will be removed before post-mission debrief.
- The Junkers have long been in our pocket, however, this is Berlin, and the Bundschuh presence upon the station will be elevated.
- GEIST initial analysis suspects the barkeeper is compromised. Do not consume or order beverages or other consumables during the meeting.
- There is a discreet nonferric panic button stitched into the lining of your trousers. Should your limbs be amputated preventing access, clack your teeth seven times in five seconds.
- Three ILU enforcers have been stationed in the compartment directly above, posted the inter-compartmental crawlspace. Response time no shorter than seven seconds, insufficient for a gunfight. Do not rely on them.
- The waitress with the blue watch, the Junker with the synthetic eye at the table to your left, and the blond geriatric woman with the large German Shepard (also with an artificial eye), are all on our payroll.
- The beer mug on table five contains a compact tachyon pistol. Reaching for it will not be discreet. Inadvisable in a firefight.
- Assume you are wearing a wire, we will not brief you on the location of said wires other than that a near-surgical cavity-search in an MRI scanner couldn’t reveal them to an interrogator.
"Though the past is scarred and the future untold"
" Be the boot heavy, the vacuum cold."
"I of the Liga, do not fold" "For suits or saints or beggar's gold. Information-Recruitment-Message Dump-Feedback
Location: Kreuzberg Depot, New Berlin System, Rheinland Core Space Date: 27/02/825 Local station time: 16:50 PM
Disgusting. This was so far the only thing Alise could think of if someone were to ask her what she thinks of Kreuzberg. In fact the very first moment she left her Raven´s Talon, she wished to be back at Pacifica. It was not only the tons of dirt and trash laying all around the corridors and halls of the station, even the layout seemed to be a mess. She had lost track of where she was going not only one or twice but thrice. Everything seemed the same, dirt, dirt and more dirt. Finally having found the way to the Scrap Eagle Bar, she hurried. Coming too late to an important meeting, would not be a good start. Her presence here, she entirely blamed on Gunda Riehl. “I see we have a volunteer.” was the thing she had said to her yesterday. As if she ever would volunteer to come to a place like this. Grumbling in her thoughts and blaming the rather unfortunate circumstances on the streak of bad luck that haunted her at the moment.
There it was finally, the Scrap Eagle Bar. The stink of alcohol and the rough voices of man screaming for more beer and other kinds of alcohol were already in the air since she turned in this corridor. Now that she stood inside the bar it was close to unbearable and additional it was crowded. Has her eyes searched around the room for any sign of the person she is supposed to meet, they caught sight of some which seem to be part of “Die Weiße Rose”, judging by the rather obvious rose pins on their clothing. Knowing this would be a rather discrete meeting she did not wear any insignia showing her true affiliation, it would probably get her into more than just a bit of trouble if the people her knew she comes from the Union. Her eyes continued to wander around in the bar and stopped on a person sitting in a slightly apart from the main bulk of bar visitors in a rather dark corner. She was not to one hundred percent sure if this is the person she is supposed to meet given the place she was in but then again, this was kinda too much cliché to be pure chance. Slowly she made her way through the masses of humans, carefully taking her distance from them, she did not intended to have contact with anyone here. Now standing a few meters away from the person she nodded one time. Despite wishing to now have one of them she had not brought any of her weapons with her, it was one of the conditions and her very honour prohibited to disobey. For the one bodyguard she was allowed to bring: Laurenz Weber. Already having been a close friend of her dear father, Laurenz had promised him to protect Alise when she was young and had to flee from their home as left extremists have broken into their home and intended to kill all remaining members of the old noble family she belongs to. She had told him to wait outside for another ten minutes and then follow up and ordering him to get something to drink and act unsuspicious.
Annika had noticed the woman immediately when she had come in. The first person to avoid body contact at all cost for at least an hour, if not more. It was quite evident that she was disgusted with the locale, something that she made sure to take a mental note of, before she let her eyes wander across the bar again. Sure, she didn't expect trouble, but re-familiarizing herself with the location before the talk seemed like a good idea.
Her steely eyes quickly focused on the Unioner yet again when she saw her nod slightly in her direction. She would have smirked if she wasn't serious about the situation, because the incredibly cliché way of meeting seemed to have actually worked for once. Not exactly surprising, given that she was dealing with the Unioners.
She decided not to reply, and instead send her bodyguard a text message via the direct neural interface. Intimidation would likely not work fully, but it would at least give the woman a feeling of being alone in the room. Not that she wanted to scare her - it was a powerplay, nothing else. Depending on the woman's level of experience, this would either make things easier, or not affect the conversation at all. She waited a little while longer, then she sent the text. 'Plan I, Michael.' They had obviously planned this, prepared plans and ideas in advance. She could have simply nodded, of course, but a major part of this first interaction was to find out what the woman was made of. How she reacted would determine how Annika would approach the conversation - in one way or another.
The newcomer stood out to anyone with perception not clouded by alcohol or feeling of safety. She would had get herself killed if she walked in on any other occasion, he’d realize. He received the message as he would expect for it to happen, reading out to go with the first contingency out of their meticulously pre-planned scenarios.
Wolf wore shades and kept away from his usual clean shaved appearance to not be recognized especially after his PR stunt that got ire of the White Rose on him. Walking out, pretending that he has business to attend to he switched direction toward Alise, intercepting her at place out of general interest to most of the patrons. Approached at an angle closing off her immediate and most obvious escape, also already herding her into direction of Generalminister Haupt. Already an imposing authoritative figure, the signature outfit promoted by Klugman himself back in the day added to his dimension. He spoke, hiding his distrust to the Unioners very well behind mask of the MND’s old school tactics.
“You are expected, Ravensberg.”
He extended his hand towards where he wants her to be, commanding Alise to continue along determined path. It was impossible to tell whether he carried any weapon and the briefing did not made a mention of Haupt’s own second in command.
Location: Kreuzberg Depot, New Berlin System, Rheinland Core Space Date: 27/02/825 Local station time: 16:53 PM
Gunn, suited in hazard-kakhi against the greying hullplates, stood as solid as David beyond the frame of the pressure-wall, monitoring the movement of Alise through the contours of the frame, eyeline mirroring hers through the mass of her visor, sunk her teeth into her gloves to suppress the seething. The crawlspace wasn't tall enough to stand, let alone cram three industriously equipped marines of the Syndic guard.
"Eyes on. The fat one's blocking the exit. Stiff 'Schuhs here like a slap of marbled thick cut with a cherry of ju-jitsu for a garnish, over."
She felt useless. The distance was too great. Before she'd charge in shooting, Alise's immaculate nails would be spread all over the ground.
“Mother frkk….! She’s got the guard drinking already. Does she want to poison Jeeves or whatever?” She swore noiselessly into the hull, cradling her rifle stock like a nervous mother uses her baby as a therapy animal, jamming herself hard against the riveted pressure walls, ear to the insulation, arm high, punched up in the near-vaccum, head level. HOLD, her fibres screamed. If the fingers dropped, the boots would stream.
She switched focus to the lens of the guard, Weber, bedecked in a pearlescent suit that looked more at home on Baden-Baden He folded his arms, neutral, yes, but with the potential of action, like a kinetic machine of old hovering between gears. The slightest crease formed at the edge of his eyes as he saw Alise ordering alcohol in complete defiance of the intelligence brief that the particularly paranoid Syndic stiffs had provided her with. Propriety was paramount, even here, in this confluent area between politics. Gunn shifted, watching for what the bodyguard would do. The Direktorate had chosen Alise because she fit the expectations – aristocratic, high-minded, everything the Bundschuh agitprop hit pieces tried to pin on Garen’s band. Call it an institutional joke.
Gunda wasn't laughing.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)
Despite the large ruckus all around her Alise got the feeling that someone or something was shifting their attention to her. If she had not found the right person own her own, someone at least noted her presence. “Well at least something.” This thought crossed her mind as she heard the man´s voice and the right corner of her mouth pulled slightly upwards, fully aware that this unknown person had cut off the most obvious escape route. Not only the Bundschuh use this tactic, she has witnessed this kind of scenario many times on Pacifica and at other meetings. It was as if she had already counted with it.
“Von Ravensberg” if I may insist on it. I assume you are the bodyguard of Miss. Haupt? And I would also prefer it, even though I understand that you want this to go your way, to choose where I sit.
She musters all the political politeness that was taught to her in her childhood. Alise only trusts the Bundschuh as far as she is able to toss them.
He crossed his arms. He knew she did not carried any weapons and her statue was insufficient to threaten him physically. He was annoyed but willing to put up with her load of crap so far it got the ends meet. Yet still, Kommisaroberst Wolf would not relent in having it the way the Haupt intended.
“Listen here. I am your only chance to enter and leave this place alive with what you came here for. So you will drop your antics at least for duration of the meeting or you can still back off peacefully and report your failure. The choice is yours.”
The Watch would not had it other way. Never display weakness… be practical but do not be afraid of driving the hard bargain though if it serves specific purpose. The Watch would not be a pushover for the Unioners… no matter what their opinion was.
Gunn itched. Thought about where she'd perforate him if it came to that. Shoulders, ribs. It wouldn't be fast enough to save Alise's hide, but he wouldn't be getting out of there. What's he trying to pull? Her mind pulsed. Haupt wasn't naive enough to think playground intimidation would function here, unless the goon was riffing against his boss. This wasn't a dark alley. Status play wasn't the stake.
"Just sit, woman. don't get hung up by bloody musical chairs."
She tightened her fingers till they starred against her gloves. If Haupt wanted to get shot nurturing her ego, Gunn was more than happy to accommodate her.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)
How bothersome. She has absolutely no intention on being bossed around by the Bundschuh. It simply was below her sense of honour, a sometimes rather strange one considering which faction she belongs to and for what they are known. Personally she had been surprised by the fact that this part of Bundschuh agreed to a meeting, given the rather obvious circumstances between them and the Unioners.
“Mister, I will be completely honest with you. I will not dance to the pipe of the Bundschuh. If Miss Haupt and me talk we do it as equal individuals given the fact that we both represent the Factions we belong to. If you excuse me, I will sit down as my legs are slowly getting tired from standing pointlessly.”
She silently locks her arms behind her back and turns around. There was an empty table just a few meters away and she calmly walks towards it, rather elegantly sitting down on the bench. The number on the table displayed a six.
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GEIST Intelligence Briefing for operative 2716. ![[Image: wEnBec6.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/wEnBec6.jpg)
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